More Than Words Can Say
by Mikage1
Summary: Yuuri has something important to tell Conrad, but doesn't know how to do it.


A/N: I wrote this to prove to myself (and to others) that I could write Conyuu. XD

More Than Words Can Say

by Mikage

He'd tried to think of the perfect way to tell him.

At first he'd thought to voice the words over dinner, during a lull in conversation maybe, or perhaps when talk turned to an appropriate subject, when what he had to say wouldn't seem so out of place. But over dinner seemed too impersonal; the others would be there, circled around the table - Gwendal with his narrowed eyes and deep set frown, Gunter with his gushing and praise, Wolfram with his suspicious glares and jealous ranting, Murata with his glasses glinting in the most annoyingly knowing way - and the conversation would be all business, and the opportunity would never arise.

He'd almost told him in passing, one morning as they'd been walking down the hall together, heading towards his office so that he could work on the paperwork that always awaited him there. But he'd decided that it wasn't special enough, and no matter how he ended up telling him, he wanted it to mean something. It was important, it was personal, and it deserved more care and consideration than a quick statement in the hallway before work.

Then he'd thought to do it during their morning training, when they would be alone but for a few guards, and they could share their delight together, without having to worry about the strange and confused looks gifted to them by others; and it would actually mean something, because it would be just the two of them, and they could share something together that no one else in the word would be able to take part in.

But when he'd opened his mouth to speak those words aloud as he and his companion jogged, they refused to come out, and he realized for the first time since the thought had first struck him that not only did he not know when and where to tell him, he didn't know _how_ to tell him.

What words was he supposed to use? Should he voice it the same way he'd heard them when he'd first been told, or should he say it differently? When he finally got it out, would it even matter? Or was he worrying about it for nothing?

Eventually, after fighting with himself for days and struggling with the correct wording, he decided that the best way to let him know would be by giving him something. At least that way it would all be clear, and he'd have physical proof to show him.

He bought the gift online. It cost more than he'd had available to him at the time, but after some begging and a few perfectly employed looks, he'd managed to get Shori to let him borrow some money, swearing that he'd pay him back as soon as he could.

It took a while for it to arrive, as it had to be shipped from the United States, and though he was anxious and impatient to have it come in the mail, once it got there and he was able to look it over, and he envisioned the smile on his guardian's face as he gave it to him, he knew the wait had been worth it.

He didn't bother wrapping it; he folded it neatly into a box and placed it into some waterproof packaging to protect it during his trip to the other world, but he didn't want to fight with tape and fancy wrapping paper. It wasn't how the box appeared on the outside that mattered anyway; what was within was the most important thing.

He planned on giving it to him as soon as he arrived, and so he was very happy to see him there waiting for him, his normal pleasant smile on his face and a warm towel in his hands for him to use in drying off. Wolfram was there as well, ready and waiting to give him an ear full for being gone for so long, but he refused to allow the blond boy's ranting to spoil the moment.

"Here, Conrad. I got this for you," he said, trading the package for the towel, using the cloth to ruffle at his damp hair.

Though the brown haired man gave him a look of slight confusion in response to the unexpected gift, Wolfram reacted predictably, all glaring green eyes and red-faced anger. "What are you doing giving gifts to _him_?!"

Yuuri held up his hands in defense, warding off the coming attack and best as he knew how. "Chill out, Wolfram. Seriously." He smiled sheepishly, keeping Wolfram at bay while watching his other friend, motioning towards the gift he'd yet to open. "Go on. Open it."

Conrad raised an eyebrow at him but did as he was told, sliding the box out of its waterproof covering, before removing the top to look inside. He confusion persisted as he noted the article of clothing nestled within, taking it out and setting the box aside momentarily so that he could unfold it and look it over.

Though Yuuri could only see the back of the shirt from where he stood in front of his godfather, he knew exactly what the older man would be seeing on its front: navy blue fabric with a red and white logo that should be familiar, and white lettering proclaiming exactly what he'd been trying to tell him for weeks now, but hadn't been able to figure out the way how. The words themselves were in English, but Conrad had spent enough time in the States to know what it said.

For a while the brunet's face remained blank, his usual smile having disappeared from his lips, hazel eyes looking over the shirt once… twice… three times. He stood still and silent, and Yuuri began to feel a little apprehensive, wondering if perhaps he'd misjudged Conrad a bit and had given him something not quite appropriate to his true feelings.

But then, just as he was about to start stuttering and trying to explain himself, Conrad's smile returned. It wasn't much different than the usual ones he sported, but when Yuuri looked into his warm brown eyes, he could see a sparkle of delight and excitement - the exact reaction he'd been hoping for.

"Thank you, Yuuri," he said as he lifted those eyes full of happiness towards him, and Yuuri knew with the use of his given name that he'd done the right thing, and that Conrad was pleased.

He smiled brightly back, and though he'd wanted to say something along the lines of how hard it had been to think of the perfect way to tell him, Wolfram interrupted.

"What is it?! What's so special about a shirt?!"

Conrad shook his head lightly and released a soft chuckle at his show of paranoia, then turned the shirt around to show him, letting him gaze upon the words only very few people in the world would be able to read, words that even fewer would truly understand.

"_Boston Red Sox 2004 World Series Champions"_


End file.
